Something Just Like This
by Rabidnar
Summary: Aubrey has lived in Queens, NY for seven months. According to her friends, that is seven months too long to still be single. It's a good thing one of them is the perfect matchmaker, and there's an adorable redhead that just moved to their block.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** I have no real, planned plot for this. Just add it to my never-ending list of WIPs, because I needed to write something fluffy and sweet, for once.

* * *

 **Something Just Like This**

* * *

 _She said, where'd you wanna go?_  
 _How much you wanna risk?_  
 _I'm not looking for somebody,_  
 _With some superhuman gifts,_  
 _Some superhero,_  
 _Some fairytale bliss._  
 _Just something I can turn to,_  
 _Somebody I can kiss._

 _-Coldplay, The Chainsmokers_

* * *

It's official. Queens is beautiful, yet boring. It's the first Friday night their boss has given them off since she moved here, and her coworker has dragged her to a Block Party where everyone is drunk on Margaritas and trying to dance to locals band's ballads with far too much vigor. And the _only_ reason Aubrey is laughing is because she's just tipsy enough to not be feeling secondhand embarrassment when someone hits the asphalt in the worst break dance attempt she has ever seen, that he then tries to cover with the worm. It's not that she can think of a better way to spend her Friday evening, but she can't exactly think of a worse way either. She's grown far too used to paperwork and the sporadic coffee run routine that has been in play for the past seven months.

"Okay, Aubrey," Brian steps in front of her, effectively blocking her view of a conga line that is failing as quickly as it's starting, "I know this may sound strange to you, but the point of a Block Party is to mingle with people who live on the block."

"How many of these people do you think actually live on our block?" Aubrey asks, sipping on her drink. "Don't you think it's a misnomer when half of these people are New Jersey wanna-be New Yorkers, who have to catch a train home before midnight if they don't want to spend the night sleeping in Penn Station?" She places one hand on his shoulder and pushes him out of the way of her only entertainment. "I mingled with the guy selling drinks."

"He offered you a Blackberry wine cooler, and you asked him if he had Peach," Brian says dryly.

Aubrey holds up the bottle in her hand. "And it paid off." She takes another drink, savoring the peach flavor. "I don't see you mingling."

"I don't mingle, because I already have friends," Brian says, "I'm waiting on them to show up."

" _Them_?" Aubrey turns to face him. "I'm so proud of you. More than two people finally tolerate you?" She places her hand on her chest and gives him her sweetest, Southern 'bless your heart' smile. "No wonder you feel like you can taunt me."

Brian rolls his eyes.

Aubrey smirks and smugly turns back to the crowd. She can find somewhere to make friends where it won't take booze and public humiliation to feel included. She just needs to find the time outside of work, work, and more work – which, admittedly, she might drown herself in more than actually necessary. "So where did you get a third friend?" she asks. "I don't remember anyone new being hired at work."

"She's not from work," Brian states. "She's one of Conrad's friends. He said she just moved here a few weeks ago. Apparently, she's a vet."

"So, she's not really _your_ friend," Aubrey confirms, with a knowing side glance at him. "Maybe you could mingle with some of these people," she suggests, "I've been told that _is_ the point of a Block Party, after all."

"You know, I've been meaning to ask you if you moved to New York for a job or because you wanted to live somewhere where everyone else is equally as rude as you are?"

"Let me remind you, _you_ live here, too." Aubrey rests her arm against the street lamp pole beside her and brings her drink to her lips again.

"I was born here," Brian says, "I have an excuse."

"Um, hi?" an unfamiliar voice approaches them from the side.

Aubrey lowers her arm and turns around, immediately taken aback – not so much by someone approaching them, but by her striking combination of red hair and blue eyes, and the mile wide grin stretched across her face. She blinks in confusion and looks around for whomever else must be standing in their general vicinity, but the only people near enough to be speaking to are herself and Brian.

"If you're looking to make friends, you've approached the wrong people," Brian says, then takes a swallow of his beer, "No one is social in this corner."

Aubrey frowns at Brian, because not even _she_ is that rude. Her throat is dry all of a sudden and she drinks the last of her wine cooler.

"Oh." The woman's smile falters, but just barely. "Sorry, my friend told me to come over here and wait with his other friends." She takes a step back and looks around. "He must have been pointing out someone else. This is awkward."

"Hey!" Conrad walks their way, all smiles, two drinks in hand. He hands a drink to the woman beside them. "This is Chloe. We met at the vet clinic she works at."

"So you met when she was cutting the balls off your dog," Brian states.

Chloe blinks then looks at Conrad.

"Precisely!" Conrad grins wider. "Chloe, this is Brian and Aubrey. I'm sorry; I should have provided you with a warning regarding their social skills. This would be a lot easier if Brian would wear the disclaimer shirt I bought him.

"What disclaimer shirt?" Brian asks.

"You know, the matching shirts I bought us." Conrad makes a vague hand motion, nearly spilling his drink.

Brian pauses. "You mean the shirt you bought me that says 'I am an asshole' and the one you bought yourself that says 'I love assholes'?"

Conrad nods.

"Huh." Brian turns back to face the band. "Honestly, I thought they had a completely different implication."

Chloe slowly brings her drink up to her lips, and Aubrey can see that she's using it to hide her entertainment even though she looks like she's feeling slightly out of place.

"I'm Aubrey," Aubrey introduces herself, suddenly finding her words again. _Idiot. Conrad already told her that._ She sticks out her hand.

Chloe lowers her drink and shakes her hand. "Chloe." Her hand lingers for a moment before she drops it back down to her side. "I just moved here from Portland."

"Virginia," Aubrey shares her own origin – somewhat. It's hard to tell people where you're from when your father is in the army and you end up in a new place before you even have a chance to get settled in the old one. She's grown used to just saying she's from the last place she lived. She's about to ask Chloe what brought her to Queens when Conrad speaks up again.

"I have to show Brian something down the street," he says, "Will you two be okay here?"

"I've already seen everything down the street," Brian says, "Aubrey and I have been here for an hour now waiting for you."

"This thing just got here." Conrad grabs Brian's arm. "This should only take a minute."

"We'll go with you," Aubrey suggests.

"You can't," Conrad says quickly, and Aubrey frowns, "This is for Brian's eyes only."

"I'm sure we'll be fine," Chloe says, "It looks like you're taking the worst with you."

It's the innocent way that Chloe says it that makes Aubrey almost laugh.

Conrad gives them a finger wave then drags Brian off toward the crowd.

Aubrey watches them leave until she can't see either of them. She glances at Chloe, then rests her arm against the light pole again and looks down at her empty drink.

Chloe looks at her and offers her a tight, closed lipped smile. "This is fun."

Aubrey opens her mouth to reply when her phone goes off. "Sorry." She pulls it out of her pocket.

"It's fine. Take it." Chloe stuffs her free hand into the pocket of her jeans and focuses on her drink.

Aubrey arches a brow and opens the text from Conrad.

 _ **Con:**_ _she's cute. and smart. and sweet. and employed. and doesn't have much baggage. essentially perfect._

"Really?" Aubrey mumbles under her breath.

 _ **Aubrey:**_ _Who says I'm interested in girls?_

 _ **Con:**_ _im starting to think ur not interested in any1. i can find u a boy if u want. cant promise he will b interested in gurls. but i think ur gonna like her._

 _ **Con:**_ _she said she was hungry. take her 2 dinner._

 _ **Con:**_ _brian and i arent coming back_

 _ **Con:**_ _ur stuck with her_

 _ **Con:**_ _good luck_

 _ **Con:**_ _ur welcome_

 _ **Con:**_ _shes adorbs_

Aubrey realizes Chloe is looking at her phone, and she quickly puts it on silent and shoves it back into her pocket. "Work," she explains.

Chloe nods and looks away. She smiles and rocks back on her heels, watching as the band changes out with someone new. "I see who bought the last peach wine cooler," she comments, and side glances at Aubrey's drink.

Conrad is right about her being attractive. But, really, who ever said she was interested in girls? "I'm, I'm sorry?" Aubrey sputters, realizing Chloe said something.

"I asked the guy selling drinks for peach, and he said he didn't know if he had any left." Chloe holds up her blackberry drink. "You have good taste."

Aubrey isn't sure whether she's supposed to thank her or apologize. "Um…" She looks up and down the street, trying to spot Brian or Conrad. "I was about to go get something to eat."

"Oh." Chloe nods. "I'll be alright here, if you want to leave. It looks like there's plenty to do."

"Do you want to come?" Aubrey asks.

If possible, Chloe grins wider, and Aubrey wonders if she ever stops smiling – not that it would be a problem if she doesn't. "Sure. I'm starving." She takes a swallow of her drink then drops the bottle in the trashcan next to her. "Where were you gonna go?"

 _Shit._ Conrad couldn't have suggested a restaurant? Aubrey tosses her empty bottle into the trash.

"I really want to try some real New York pizza," Chloe says, "I mean, we don't _have_ to. I'm sure you're tired of it, living here longer than me and all; I just haven't had pizza here yet, and it sounds really good right now."

"Pizza sounds great." It sounds simple, anyway. There is a pizza restaurants on damn near every block. Great, though? Not so much for her diet. "Just let me tell the guys where we're going." Aubrey pulls out her phone and reopens her text chat with Conrad.

 _ **Aubrey:**_ _Fuck you and your emasculated dog._

Aubrey smiles and tucks her phone away. "Ready?" She's tempted to shoot another text to Conrad, asking if she looks like a tour guide to him. But, on second thought, she's hungry as well. And Chloe seems nice enough. She could use a few more friends. Bonding with people in a city that could have its own Anti-social Personality Disorder diagnosis hasn't exactly been effortless.

"For _pizza_?" Chloe laughs and nods. "I will never _not_ be ready for pizza. It's _pizza_."

Aubrey's smile takes on a new level of sincerity, because, _well shit_ , Chloe is 'adorbs' or whatever the term is. Her cheeks warm at the thought, and she rubs her face to hide the redness. She turns and looks down the street, trying to decide on the best pizza place near to their current location. "I think we should head away from the Block Party, so we can find somewhere not full of people." The places here lack seats and tables as is, and it seems like a night where people would rather eat somewhere near than somewhere good.

"Sounds like a plan." Chloe bumps their shoulders together. "Lead the way."


	2. Chapter 2

**Guest** : Thank you.  
 **Rober428** : Thanks! Cute is the plan here, for now.  
 **Pixie1913** : Thank you. I don't think I am very good at fluff, so I'm considering this practice.  
 **Blondie** : Thank you! Glad to bring my readers smiles rather than tears for once.

 **A/N:** A small, cute little plot has developed in my head for this. Writing something light and not too serious is a nice, relaxing change of pace.

* * *

 **Something Just Like This**

* * *

 _She said, where'd you wanna go?_  
 _How much you wanna risk?_  
 _I'm not looking for somebody with some superhuman gifts,_  
 _Some superhero,_  
 _Some fairytale bliss._  
 _Just something I can turn to,_  
 _Somebody I can kiss._  
 _\- Coldplay, The Chainsmokers_

* * *

"So, why did you move to New York?" Chloe asks. They stop weaving in and out of people, and turn down a relatively empty street lined with expensive houses that all look alike. "I've never been to Virginia, but it seems like it would be a lot different than here. Probably cheaper too."

"I like the change of pace," Aubrey answers – the same scripted response she's been giving for the past seven months. "You?"

"I like to sing," Chloe answers, "I want to be on Broadway one day. You don't have to tell me that I'm one of _those_ people. I already know everyone else thinks that."

"One of what people?" Aubrey slows down once they're away from the crowd, relishing the fresh air and personal space. The change of pace _is_ nice – the hoards for people, not always so much.

"You know…" Chloe shrugs. "One of those people who moves here for fame and fortune and to see their name in lights. I don't want that. I just want to sing."

There is a pizza parlor three blocks away, and Aubrey decides the crowd has dwindled down enough that they might be in luck finding somewhere there to sit. "I thought people move to _LA_ for fame and fortune," she jests, "People move here to get stuck in traffic and avoid Times Square."

"And to get accosted by eight identical Elmo mascots at the same time, if my trip to the bank yesterday taught me anything." Chloe shudders.

Aubrey puts on her best poker face. "That's how they initiate you," she says, "They trap you at the bank so they can manipulate you out of your hard earned money, and then they use it to buy you your own costume and you're forced to become one of them. I hope you didn't give them anything."

Chloe glances at her from out of the corner of her eye, her lips curving into a lopsided frown. "That's terrifying."

"They feed off your fear." Aubrey tries to keep a straight face, but fails.

"They look like they feed off crack cocaine and homeless people," Chloe deadpans.

Aubrey shrugs. "That too." She pulls open the door of Slice of New York. The smell of freshly baked bread makes her stomach growl, and her mouth immediately starts watering. She holds the door open for Chloe, and scans the room for a place to sit. "Table or booth?"

"Booth, definitely." Chloe steps inside, then turns back to look at her. "Should we grab a seat first?"

Aubrey nods. She steps inside and grabs two menus from beside the counter, then walks around the people milling about toward the nearest empty booth. It's near the window, and Aubrey scoots over close to the glass after she sits down. There isn't much to see – only a few shops and a subway entrance, but a view is a view in the city. She places the menus on the table, then flips one over to look at the pizza slice options.

Chloe slides into the other side of the booth and picks up the second menu. "So, tell me about yourself," she says and settles back against the seat. "Who are you, Aubrey?"

 _Cheese. Pepperoni. Sausage._ Aubrey glances up.

"Sorry, that was a really broad question." Chloe says, reading as she talks. "I'll start. My name is Chloe. I'm twenty-seven. I'm a Gemini. I have a dog named Sir Licks-A-Lot. I want to be on Broadway, but I'm also a licensed vet, and I just started working at the new animal clinic that opened. Your turn."

Aubrey presses her lips together as she thinks. "My name is Aubrey Posen. I'm older than you, and I'm an Aires." She decides on her pizza and lowers her menu. "I live with Brian, Conrad, and their dog, Twix. And Brian and I are interns at a law office." _Oh, and I have a daughter._ That's always the deal-breaker, right there, isn't it? She folds her arms on the table. There are plenty of other reasons to not call her again without it falling back on her kid, so she decidedly keeps her mouth shut this time. She wonders if this is how Chloe introduces herself to everyone, because it's definitely not how Aubrey was taught to start conversation.

"Ooh," Chloe places her menu on the table. "So, which character would you be on How To Get Away With Murder?"

Aubrey tilts her head. Judging by her general knowledge of the show… "No one," she answers, "I'm on my way to being a Corporate Lawyer. I don't go to court. I negotiate and write contracts."

"What if you did have to go to court?" Chloe asks, "What if Brian was accused of murdering a big, corporate partner and you had to defend him. Who would you be?"

"Someone in prison for mimicking a Defense Lawyer with no degree or prior training." Aubrey furrows her brows.

"We should take one of those Buzzfeed quizzes," Chloe suggests. She pulls out her phone and switches from her side of the table to Aubrey's, angling herself so she's facing her. She types for a moment before looking up. "Ready?"

Aubrey slowly turns to face her, wondering if now is a good time to tell her that she has no idea what Buzzfeed is.

"How do you come to class?" Chloe asks, "A: Confused. B: Ready and Composed. C: Wait, we had class?"

"Ready and Composed," Aubrey answers easily.

"What's your current relationship status?" Chloe asks next, "A: Happily Taken. B: It's Complicated. C: Single and Looking. D: Single and Not Looking."

Is that even a real question? Aubrey's saliva feels thick in her throat. She subtly tries to look at Chloe's phone, but it's positioned so she can't see anything on the screen. She looks at her menu, absently scanning the words without reading them, tempted to choose the last one.

Chloe glances up from her phone. "Should I say it's complicated?" she asks.

Aubrey's head snaps up and she quickly shakes it. It's definitely not complicated. "C," she answers simply.

The corners of Chloe's lips twitch upward and she looks down and touches her phone screen.

"What's your typical Friday night?" Chloe asks, "A: Partying. B: Netflix. C: Studying." She pauses. "It is Friday, and we did just meet at a Block Party, so…?"

Aubrey shakes her head again. "Working would be a more accurate answer," she says, "Tonight was a fluke."

"Okay, so we'll just out studying," Chloe says. "How do you usually approach someone cute?" She taps her phone. "Well, I'm cute and I approached you, so we're going to pick the one that says cute people just approach you."

It's starting to feel like Aubrey is answering questions on a dating app rather than figuring out which fictional TV character she would be. "We're going to get kicked out for loitering soon," she says and picks their menus up.

"Wait, we're done," Chloe says and taps her phone again. "Okay, you would Michaela Pratt. _Michaela is an ambitious over-achiever with a stellar resume. Always the first to raise her hand in class, she is exceedingly over-prepared and ready to impress any professor or person of authority._ Sound accurate?"

 _Too accurate._ "I don't think so. For serious though, we're going to get kicked out for loitering."

Chloe smirks. "Let's get some pizza then." She slides out of the booth and places her phone in her pocket, then holds out her hand.

Aubrey blinks and stares at her hand.

"What?" Chloe asks. "You don't let people help you up?"

Aubrey's cheeks feel hot as she grabs Chloe's hand and lets her help her up. Her imagination must be acting up when Chloe's hand seems to linger a few seconds too long on hers. They literally _just met_. She quickly reasons that it's been two years since anyone has held her hand (not that helping someone up could be considered hand-holding), and one year since she's been shown any sort of affection at all. She curses Conrad in her mind for sending her thoughts in inane directions.

Chloe unties her jacket from around her waist and tosses it on the table. "So no one takes our spot," she explains. "You know, Michaela is _exceedingly_ independent, too." She winks then turns and walks toward the counter.

Aubrey glances at Chloe's jacket, hoping there's nothing valuable in the pockets. This is New York, after all. She keeps an eye on it as she follows Chloe to the counter, pulling her credit card out of her pocket in the process.

Chloe bumps their elbows together. "It's fine; it was like $5 at Ross." She smiles and steps up to the counter. "Do you want to order first?" she asks Aubrey.

Aubrey forces herself to stop worrying about it and slides their menus back into the holder by the counter. She orders herself a single slice of white, broccoli pizza, looks down at her credit card for a fraction of a second, then turns to Chloe. "I got it," she says. "It's your first time having pizza in New York; someone should treat you to it."

"That's really sweet. Thank you." Chloe glances one more time at the menu – this time, at the one on the wall behind the counter – then orders herself two slices of veggie pizza. "At least less me buy us some drinks." She pulls some cash out of her pocket and places it on the counter, ordering two Yuengling beers as well. "You can't have pizza on a Friday night without beer." She pauses. "Or on any night really."

It's hard to disagree. Aubrey pays for their food then grabs both of their plates as Chloe takes their drinks and her change. She nudges Chloe's jacket out of the way and sets their plates down before taking a seat again. Her stomach rumbles again.

Chloe slides back into the side of the booth across from her and passes her beer across the table. "Are you a vegetarian, too?" she asks as she looks at Aubrey's pizza.

Aubrey looks down at her food. "Um…"

"It doesn't bother me if you're not." Chloe is still grinning, and Aubrey is starting to wonder if her resting face is somehow an excited smile, "I didn't used to be, but then I treated someone's pet cow in vet school, and then every time I tried to eat beef, I was worried I was, like, eating one of its family members." She laughs. "It's weird, isn't it?"

Aubrey can't help but smile, too, as she shrugs her shoulders. "Yeah, that's kind of weird," she admits and picks up her pizza. "But I guess, depending on where you live and how the grocery stores obtain meat products, the statistics of eating a hamburger related to the hamburger you ate a week previous could be very low or very high. But cows kill people, too. Statistics show that cows kill more people per year than sharks do."

"So, are you really a Corporate Lawyer?" Chloe asks, narrowing her eyes, "Or are you secretly a Defense Lawyer for serial killer sharks?"

"I was a dual major," Aubrey answers with as much sincerity as she can muster and takes a bite of her pizza, trying not to smile.

Chloe laughs again and rolls her eyes. She takes a bite of her pizza then lifts the back of her hand to her mouth and nods her head. "Mm. This is amazing," she says, still chewing.

It takes every ounce of Aubrey's self-control not to pull out her mother voice and tell her to swallow before she chokes.

Chloe's phone goes off, and she pulls it out of her pocket and looks at the screen. Her cheeks flush a visible shade of pink. She's about to type when her phone starting pinging repeatedly, and her eyes widen. "Does your friend always text this much?" she asks.

Aubrey freezes mid-bite. She's doesn't even need to ask which of her two friends might be blowing up Chloe's phone. She quickly chews and swallows, taking a drink to make it go down faster. "What's he saying?" she asks, less concerned that he may be driving Chloe crazy, and more concerned about what content he might be driving her crazy with.

"Nothing," Chloe says a little too quickly and takes a long drink.

"So, he's just saying random words?" Aubrey asks. Actually, that might make sense if he's drunk…

"Well, no…" Chloe slowly tucks her phone back into her pocket, the redness in her cheeks becoming more prominent.

Aubrey takes the opportunity to pull out her own phone and check her messages.

 **7 New Messages**

 _ **Con:**_ _hows it going?_

 _ **Con:**_ _shes cute right?_

 _ **Con:**_ _i told u shes adorbs_

 _ **Con:**_ _get her number_

 _ **Con:**_ _hey_

 _ **Con:**_ _have u looked at the time_

 _ **Con:**_ _u need to pick up Char soon_

Aubrey glances at the time, then quickly puts her phone away. _Shit._ "I'm sorry. I have to go," she says, "I have somewhere I have to be. Do you need someone to walk you over to the subway?"

"Oh." Chloe fumbles for words. "The subway? No, I live down the street."

"Okay, good." _Fuck. That was rude._ "I'm so sorry." Aubrey slides out of the booth and checks to make sure she has all of her things. Why did she think she had enough time to walk to dinner. Why did _Conrad_ think she had enough time to walk to dinner? She still needs to buy dinner for Charlotte.

"It's fine." Chloe takes another drink and stands up. "Is everything okay?"

"I'm just running really late." Aubrey pulls her wallet out. "I need to buy something to go." She takes one last swallow of her drink then places it on the table and walks swiftly to the counter.

Chloe grabs her jacket and follows her. "Late for what?" she asks casually, after Aubrey orders a slice of cheese pizza to go and hands her card to the cashier.

Aubrey swallows thickly and takes her card back, followed by the small, rectangular pizza box. "I left my kid with a sitter." _There. She said it._ "I'm supposed to be there in five minutes." She waits for it – waits for the moment Chloe finds an excuse and bails out before she has time to even blink.

"You didn't say you had a kid." Chloe offers her a gentle smile. "I totally understand. Well, I mean, I don't, because I don't have kids, but, yeah, you should definitely go before you're late."

Honestly, that's probably the easiest she's been let down. Aubrey nods. "It was nice meeting you." She turns and heads for the door.

"Um, hey, Aubrey, wait!" Chloe calls after her.

Aubrey stops and turns around.

Chloe takes several long strides to catch up with her. "This is going to sound really awkward, but your friend has been trying to set me up with you," she says, quickly, "That probably makes all of this really weird, and I totally understand if you don't want to hang out again, but you seem really sweet and adorable. Maybe I can get your number?"

Aubrey blinks and takes a moment to make sure she heard her right. _Sweet and adorable._ That's new. Her entire body feels warm, and it isn't just from the alcohol. She nods and waits for Chloe to pull out her phone, then gives her her cell number. "It was nice to meet you." She kicks herself for how stupid her words sound. Of course, it was nice meeting her. Had it not been, she wouldn't have given her her number.

"It was nice meeting you, too." Chloe ties her jacket back around her waist, then loosely folds her arms. "I'll call you, and we can make plans when you have more time?"

Aubrey nods.

"Great. Bye, Aubrey."

She likes how Chloe says her name. Aubrey mentally kicks herself again. "Bye." She turns and rushes out the door.


	3. Chapter 3

**bechloe-bible-49** : This is my first time writing Chaubrey with a kid. I'm excited.  
 **Pixie1913** : Aubrey IS adorable.  
 **LaraAelric (chapters 1, 2):** Aubrey is the cutest. No one can argue. I will fight anyone who thinks she's not adorable.  
 **Acroviolet** : Thank you! I'm practicing writing quality cuteness. But with a plot, bc I can't exist without SOME bad things happening.

 **A/N:** I accidentally wrote 'cat' instead of 'dog' in the last chapter, but I fixed it, so it's all good!

* * *

 **Something Just Like This**

* * *

 _She said, where'd you wanna go?_  
 _How much you wanna risk?_  
 _I'm not looking for somebody with some superhuman gifts,_  
 _Some superhero,_  
 _Some fairytale bliss._  
 _Just something I can turn to,_  
 _Somebody I can kiss_

 _-Coldplay, The Chainsmokers_

* * *

Aubrey sprints up four flights of stairs, because she knows she can beat the elevator. Not that it matters. She's already late. It's not by much. But her father always says early is on time, on time is late, and if you're late, don't bother showing up. She jogs down the hallway and comes to a stop outside Room 481. It's fine. People are late to places all the time. She raps on the door with her knuckles, then takes a step back. She's tempted to check the time, but she refrains, her skin already crawling from the knowledge that it won't say she's early.

The door opens almost immediately, and an irritated, elderly woman stares Aubrey down. "You said 7:30," she says without missing a beat, then turns to look inside. "Charlotte, your mother is here!"

"I know." Aubrey can feel her cheeks burning. "I got caught up with something. I got here as fast as I could."

"You need to find a new sitter," the woman says, her frown growing by the second.

"Oh." Aubrey blinks and rubs her neck.

" _Not_ because you were late," she says, "You need to teach your child some manners." She ushers Aubrey's five year old into the hallway then holds out her hand.

Aubrey shoves her hand into her pocket and pulls out the cash she took out of the ATM before the Block Party. She hands it to her, then cringes as the door slams in her face. "What did you do?" She takes a deep breath then slooowly lets it out as she looks down at Charlotte.

Charlotte heaves a loud sigh and crosses her arms, meeting Aubrey's eyes with raised eyebrows.

"For serious." Aubrey's frown begins to hurt her cheeks. "I'm running out of people to watch you. What did you do?"

"I don't need anyone to watch me," Charlotte says. She turns and starts walking towards the staircase. "I'm five. I can watch myself; I have a mirror."

 _Really?_ Aubrey stares at the back of her head for a few seconds before walking behind her. "Tell me what you did, and I'll give you pizza," she offers.

Charlotte glances over her shoulder, and Aubrey holds up the box. "I told her she's going to die soon." She stops and kicks at the carpet. "She's old; someone had to tell her!"

"You can't tell people that they're about to die, Charlotte." Aubrey sighs and opens the pizza box. She kneels down to her level and takes the pizza out of the box, folding it so Charlotte can hold it easier. "But I guess she is old."

" _Super_ old." Charlotte turns around and marches back to Aubrey, stopping centimeters away from the pizza. She leans forward and takes a giant bite. Strings of cheese remain attached to the pizza, and she backs up, trying to use her tongue to detach them. "Where were you?" she mumbles, mouth full.

"Chew and swallow." Aubrey hands her the pizza slice and leaves her to figure out the cheese situation. She closes the box and stands up. "I told you I was going to a Block Party, remember?"

Charlotte nods and follows her to the stairs. She swallows her mouthful of pizza. "Can I go play with the blocks now?"

Their previous twenty minute conversation about how a Block Party does not include Legos is not one that Aubrey cares to repeat. "It's bedtime," she says, and leads her down the stairs to the third floor. "The blocks have all been put away now."

Charlotte sighs extra loudly and takes another bite of pizza. "You're supposed to share blocks, _remember_?" she asks after she swallows.

Aubrey turns and walks down the hallway. "I told you they were grownup blocks. You wouldn't have been able to lift them." She digs in her pocket for her apartment key as she stops outside the door.

Charlotte shoots her a dubious look.

Aubrey unlocks the door then puts her key back in her pocket. "It's true." She starts to rub her throat, but catches herself and quickly lowers her hand before Charlotte calls her out on the nervous habit. "I could barely lift them." She turns around to look at her again.

"You're weak if you can't lift a _block._ " Charlotte doesn't stop staring at her as she takes another bite of pizza then licks some of the sauce off her hand.

"Excuse me?" Aubrey folds her arms.

Charlotte shrugs. "You said sometimes the truth hurts." She takes another bite.

The corners of Aubrey's lips twitch. "I'm going to remember that." She leans against the door and waits for Charlotte to finish her pizza. "What book do you want to read tonight?"

"Hm." Charlotte eats her way to the crust then hands that to Aubrey. "The one Daddy gived me."

"We read that one all week. You said you were going to pick a new one tonight." Aubrey takes a bite of the crust and opens the door, ushering Charlotte inside before the dog can get out.

"I want _that_ one." Charlotte throws her arms up in front of her face as Twix rushes to her and begins jumping to try to lick the pizza sauce from her hands and face.

Aubrey turns on the kitchen light and tosses the pizza box in the trash can. "You have a whole shelf of books that you haven't read yet." She leans against the counter and finishes off the pizza crust. "It's a waste of money if you're not going to read them."

"Take them back." Charlotte giggles as Twix knocks her onto the floor.

"I'm not taking them back. You're going to read them." Aubrey glances at the clock. "It's time to brush your teeth."

Charlotte pushes the French Bulldog off of her and sits up. "Fine." She stands up and places her hands on her hips.

 _Fine_? Aubrey isn't sure how she ended up with a child that manages to be both irritatingly stubborn, yet completely compliant at the same time, but it makes her wonder why she doesn't go out drinking more. "You need to walk to the bathroom in order to brush your teeth," she reminds her and makes a hand motion toward the hallway.

Charlotte drops her hands to her sides and spins on her heels, then marches herself toward the bathroom.

Aubrey rolls her eyes and breaks into a half-smile once Charlotte is no longer examining her every expression and move, and follows her down the hallway. "How was school today?" she asks as they walk into the bathroom.

Charlotte climbs onto her step stool and takes her toothbrush out of the cabinet. She runs it under the water and puts her toothpaste on it, then sticks it in her mouth before responding to the question. "I ant alk," she mumbles, scrubbing her teeth, "I oofbruth is in I outh."

Aubrey grabs her own toothbrush. "That's fine." She runs it under the water than digs her toothpaste out of the cabinet. "I won't tell you about my day either." She squeezes her toothpaste onto the brush then looks at herself in the mirror as she brushes her teeth, managing to watch Charlotte from the reflection without being noticed.

Charlotte leans forward and spits in the sink. "Good." She turns on the water and rinses off her toothbrush, then puts it back. "It was probably boring. It's always boring." She cups her hands under the water and rinses her mouth.

Aubrey spits. "That's not true." _It's definitely true._ She follows suit, rinsing her toothbrush and putting it away before rinsing her mouth. "I made a new friend at the party."

"You said you weren't going to tell me about it." Charlotte steps down off her stool.

"Did you make any new friends today?" Aubrey asks.

Charlotte's features darken for a fraction of a second before she stares expressionless at Aubrey. She shrugs. "I had a spelling test."

"But did you talk to anyone?" Aubrey asks. All she wants is an answer – even if it's not the one she wants to hear.

"I got all the answers right," Charlotte says, "I got the bonus right too. So I got two stickers. They're in my backpack."

"Who did you sit by at lunch today?" Aubrey asks. There has to be a name. She knows Kindergarten all sits together at an assigned table in the cafeteria.

"The bonus word was 'what'," Charlotte informs her as she walks over to the toilet and lifts up the lid. "W-h-a-t. Leave. I have to go potty."

Aubrey gives her a terse nod, then turns and walks out of the bathroom. She's going to need to draft another email – one more that her teacher probably won't respond to. She understands that a class of 21 five year olds is a lot of work, but she could at least be let in on how her child is doing outside of the academics portion of the day. But as long as Charlotte isn't destroying property or attacking other children, apparently the school doesn't find it that important. She can only imagine what public school must be like.

"You didn't close the door!" Charlotte calls after her, shutting it loudly before Aubrey can even turn around.

Aubrey pulls out her phone as she walks into her bedroom and finds herself checking to see if Chloe has texted her. She actually feels disappointed when she has no new messages. Shaking her head at herself, she tosses the phone on the bed then strips out of her clothes and throws them in her hamper. She pulls on a tank top and pajama pants, then walks to meet Charlotte in the hallway after she hears the toilet flush and the sink turn on. "Make sure you wash the dog drool off your face," she says loud enough that she knows Charlotte can hear her through the bathroom door. "With soap!"

"Soap burns my eyeballs!" The sink turns off, and Charlotte opens the bathroom door, her face dripping wet. She lifts her shirt and uses it to dry herself off. "I can't use soap in my eyes," she mutters.

"No one is telling you to put it in your eyes." Aubrey folds her arms.

"You said put it on my face!" Charlotte puts the front of her shirt back down. "That's where my eyes are!"

Aubrey bites her tongue, reminding herself to pick and choose her battles. She tries to tell herself that a little dog drool never hurt anyone, but she finds herself walking into the bathroom and wetting a rag with soap and warm water. "Come here," she commands and kneels down.

Charlotte turns and walls back into the room, stopping in front of her.

Aubrey scrubs her cheeks and forehead with the soapy half of the rag then wipes off the suds with the other half, smirking as Charlotte whines at her and scrunches up her face. "Dogs have cooties," she says, "Do you want cooties on your face?" She tosses the rag onto the sink counter and wipes away a few excess water drops with her thumb.

Charlotte scrubs at her eyes with the back of her arm then drops her arm down by her sides.

Aubrey smiles at her and cups her chin with her hand. She leans forward and pecks Charlotte's lips then stands up. "It's time to put on your pajamas."

Charlotte slaps her arms against her sides. "Why is it always time for something?" she asks.

"Because that's just how things work," Aubrey answers, "Look, I'm in my pajamas, and now it's time for you to be in yours."

Charlotte heaves a sigh and walks toward her bedroom, leaving Aubrey behind her.

"Which ones do you want to wear?" Aubrey asks as she follows her. She stops in front of Charlotte's dresser and opens the drawer that contains her GoodNites as Charlotte turns on the light. She pulls out one of the pull-ups then closes the drawer again and opens the pajamas drawer.

"Poppy," Charlotte answers without missing a beat as she undresses herself. "That's not even a question!"

"Of course." Aubrey nods. "How silly of me to ask." She pulls out the Trolls nightgown. If it isn't Poppy, it isn't relevant. She hands Charlotte her clothes then turns to look at her bookshelf. "There's the new Trolls book I bought you," she suggests, "We haven't read that one yet."

Charlotte slips on her pajamas, then tosses her dirty clothes in the hamper. "I want to read the one Daddy gived me," she replies petulantly.

"Gived isn't a word," Aubrey says and looks at the other book. "I don't want to read that one anymore, Charlotte. Pick a new one."

"The Trolls one," Charlotte mumbles.

Aubrey grabs it off the shelf. "Thank you." She flips through it as she makes her way to the rocking chair in the corner. "It looks like a good book." It looks like everything she hates after seeing the movie eight-hundred times, but at least it's something new. She sits down on the chair and pats her lap.

Charlotte frowns at her as she walks over and climbs up onto her lap. She settles back as Aubrey leans back of the chair, and looks down at the book.

Aubrey breathes through a pang of guilt as she opens it up to the first page and begins reading. It really is that she has just read the same book over and over every night for a week, and her eyes hurt just looking at the cover of it at this point. It's time to switch it up – at least for one night. She uses her foot to rock them back and forth, reading slowly so Charlotte has time to examine the pictures.

Three pages in, Charlotte slowly starts to settle down and accept that this is the book they're reading. She slides her thumb into her mouth and reaches her other hand above her head, feeling around until she finds Aubrey's hair. Her head lulls against her arm, and she twists the ends up Aubrey's hair around her fingers then rubs it between her fingers and thumb, staring absently at the book.

It used to be that Charlotte would fall asleep while Aubrey was reading, but not anymore. She fights it lately, even after the book is finished. Aubrey closes the book once she's done reading and places it on the nightstand, then scoops Charlotte up into her arms as she stands. She silently carries her to her bed, finally at a point where she can pull the blankets down with Charlotte still in her arms. "Do you want some music on?" she whispers as she places her down and covers her up.

Charlotte nods, not taking her eyes off her.

Aubrey fiddles with the iPod and speakers on Charlotte's nightstand until it turns on – instrumental music filling the room. She kneels down beside the bed and places a light kiss on Charlotte's forehead.

"Mommy?" Charlotte mumbles over her thumb and reaches to play with her hair again. "Is Daddy coming home tomorrow?"

Aubrey swallows hard and shakes her head.

"Next week?" Charlotte asks.

"No." Aubrey shakes her head again.

"Next month?" Charlotte tries again.

"I don't know, Charlotte, okay? I don't know." Aubrey kisses her forehead again. "It's time for bed." She gently untwists her hair from Charlotte's grip, and stands back up. "I love you." She turns on her nightlight before she turns off the room light, then cracks the door as she steps out and walks back to the bathroom.

Her features fall once she's out of Charlotte's sight. Aubrey scrubs off her makeup as quickly as she can then walks back into her bedroom and sits down on the edge of the bed. She looks at the picture on her nightstand. It's still there, even after weeks of her telling herself she's going to put it away so she doesn't have to look at it anymore. Doesn't have to look at _him_ anymore. She picks it up and holds it on her lap, and traces her pointer finger around the inside edges of the frame. She looks disgustingly happy in the photograph – her eyes shut tight as she laughs. He has one arm around her, his other holding up Charlotte as she makes a face at the camera. Someone should have told her that she would only have two months, three weeks, and one day after the photo was taken to see him. _Selfish prick._

It isn't until a tear splashes across the frame and blurs his face that Aubrey realizes she's crying. She takes a deep breath, pulls herself together, and places the photo face down on her nightstand so all he can see is the cheap wood. She'll put the photo away. Eventually. She scoots back on her bed until her back is against the headboard, and closes her eyes. And she'll downgrade to a smaller bed, because this one feels too big for just her. She pinches the bridge of her nose, her stomach feeling suddenly queasy. She reaches over without looking and sets the frame upright again.

"Mommy?"

Aubrey quickly lifts her head and opens her eyes, looking over to where Charlotte is standing in the doorway. "Hey." She sniffles and tries to subtly wipe her face with the back of her hand. "Go back to bed. You're supposed to be going to sleep."

"I was thinking…" Charlotte says, taking a few steps into the room.

Aubrey lets out a slow breath and shifts to sit crisscross, resting her hands on her lap. "Mhm?"

"There might be a monster under your bed," Charlotte says very seriously. She walks the rest of the way inside and kneels down beside the bed, looking underneath it. "There is."

"Oh." Aubrey frowns and looks down at her. "Charlotte, that's the container with our extra sheets in it."

"No, it's a monster." Charlotte stands up and jumps, grabbing onto the blankets and pulling herself up onto the bed. "I have to make sure it doesn't eat you."

Aubrey finally sees what she's getting at.

Charlotte pulls down the blankets and crawls underneath them. "I'm going to make sure it doesn't eat you."

"I don't think that's necessary." Aubrey lowers herself down onto her side. "Go to bed."

"It is," Charlotte says nonchalantly. She pulls the blankets up over Aubrey too, then snuggles into her and resumes sucking her thumb and playing with her hair. She yawns and closes her eyes.

Aubrey watches her for a moment, debating carrying her back to her own bed. She has a feeling that wouldn't be accomplishing much, unless she wants the exercise from doing it over and over again. She finally sighs and wraps her arm around Charlotte, hugging her closer as she closes her eyes, too. "Night, Charlotte," she whispers.

Charlotte pulls her thumb from her mouth just long enough to turn her head and kiss Aubrey's cheek. "Night, Mommy. I love you."


	4. Chapter 4

**bechloe-bible-49** : Thanks! I really enjoy writing kids. Charlotte is definitely going to give Aubrey any run for her money.  
 **Pixie1913** : Not enough people appreciate the adorableness that is Aubrey Posen.  
 **Guest** : Thank you!

 **A/N:** I don't have too many plans for this story outside of the basic skeleton. I'm just kind of rolling with it. So, if y'all have domestic Chaubrey prompts, let me know, and I can try to incorporate them.

* * *

 **Something Just Like This**

* * *

 _She said, where'd you wanna go?_  
 _How much you wanna risk?_  
 _I'm not looking for somebody with some superhuman gifts,_  
 _Some superhero,_  
 _Some fairytale bliss._  
 _Just something I can turn to,_  
 _Somebody I can kiss._

 _-Coldplay, The Chainsmokers_

* * *

By Friday of the next week, when Chloe finally texts, Aubrey has given up all hope on seeing her again. She decided by Tuesday that Chloe had probably asked for her number just to keep her from feeling bad, and really had no intention of saving it in her phone. Worse, she had to spend an entire week making up excuses to Brian and Conrad about why she hadn't gone out with her again. They were both busy. They didn't really hit it off. Aubrey wasn't sure it was the right time to bring someone new into Charlotte's life.

But, at 6:30 on Friday morning, Aubrey's phone lights up just as she is waking up. She rolls over and reaches over Charlotte, grabbing it off the nightstand. The number is unknown. She frowns and squints at the bright light as she opens up the message.

 _Hey, it's Chloe. Omg, I am so sorry. I have been so busy. Ik it's early, but Conrad said u wake up at 6:30 for work. Do u want to get coffee with me? He said u always stop 4 coffee._

Aubrey blinks a few times then rubs her eyes – considering the possibility that she might still be asleep and dreaming. But, no, she is definitely awake. She looks at her phone again and sends a text back.

 _Sure. Where?_

It's too early in the morning to feel this giddy. It's too early in their _friendship_ to feel this giddy. She turns and swings her legs over the edge of the bed. Her phone lights up again.

 _Starbucks by ur apartment building at 7:45?_

Aubrey smiles.

 _Sure._

She saves Chloe's number in her phone and gets out of bed so she can get ready for work.

xxxxx

"Why can't I go?" Charlotte asks, pouting at her cereal. "I always go."

"Because today is different and Brian is going to walk you to school," Aubrey answers. "Don't forget your lunch."

"But what about hot chocolate?" Charlotte asks.

"I made you hot chocolate; it's right in front of you." Aubrey tries to ignore the twinge of guilt in her chest.

"I don't want it." Charlotte lowers her forehead to the table.

"You're being dramatic." Aubrey grabs her purse off the counter. "I'll see you tonight. Be good for Brian. Be good _at school._ " She walks forward and kisses the back of Charlotte's head, frowning as Charlotte waves her away then wipes off the kid. She sighs. "I love you."

"Don't be a jerk to your mother," Brian says, walking into the kitchen. "It's my job to be the asshole."

"Love you, too," Charlotte mumbles into the table.

"Don't say asshole," Aubrey says. She points back and forth between both of them. "Either of you." The moment Charlotte starts swearing because of him, she's going to kill him. "And don't say jerk either."

Brian rolls his eyes and pours himself a cup of coffee. "Yes, Mommy," he says in a honeyed tone.

Aubrey suddenly feels like she's going to puke. "And never call me Mommy."

"What?" Charlotte lifts her head.

" _You_ may call me Mommy," Aubrey tells her.

"Daddy?" Brian smirks and wiggles his eyebrows, knowing full well that he's pushing her buttons.

"Do you _want_ to live?" Aubrey asks him.

"Sir?" Brian tries again.

This isn't a battle that Aubrey has time for if she wants to be on time to meet Chloe. "I can live with that." She stuffs her keys and her phone into her bag. "Be good," she directs at both of them – not sure who she's concerned about most.

"Rise and shine, sluts!" Conrad announces, walking into the kitchen.

Aubrey turns and walks right out the door.

xxxxx

She gets to Starbucks at 7:44, which is basically unacceptably late. But Chloe isn't there yet. So Aubrey waits outside the door and continuously checks her watch. She technically doesn't have to be to work until 9:30. Her watch reads 7:45. Maybe Chloe isn't coming. Maybe she got there, realized Aubrey wasn't there, and left. 7:46.

"Hey!" Chloe walks up beside her, grinning ear to ear.

Aubrey almost jumps. She quickly stops looking at her watch and lowers her arm. "Hey."

Chloe glances at the watch on Aubrey's wrist, still grinning. "Come on, I wasn't _that_ late," she defends herself. "This is probably the most on time I get."

"I was just checking what time it was." Aubrey awkwardly adjusts the strap of her purse.

"It's 7:47." Chloe winks at her. "Do you want to go inside?"

Aubrey quickly nods.

Chloe pulls the door open for her. "You look nice," she comments, holding it open with her foot.

Aubrey scolds herself for not being the one to hold the door. "Thanks," she says, walking inside. "You do, too."

"I guess." Chloe follows her in. "There's only so much one can do with a t-shirt and jeans. I almost came in scrubs."

Aubrey realizes it probably wouldn't matter what Chloe is wearing; Chloe is just cute. On the other hand, Aubrey has to make an effort to look nice for work – working at a law office and all. She's forced to wear either a dress or a suit every day. Today, she opted for a suit. "What do you drink?" she asks, walking up to the counter. She pulls her wallet out of her purse and takes out her card.

"Hey, we have a deal, remember?" Chloe asks.

Aubrey stares at her in confusion.

"You buy the food, and I buy the drinks." Chloe pulls some cash out of her back pocket. "What do you want?"

"I can buy drinks this time," Aubrey assures her. She knows what it's like to just recently move to New York – it makes a person tight on money.

"How about you buy breakfast?" Chloe suggests, "I _really_ like bagels."

Aubrey nods. A deal is a deal, she guesses. She turns and orders them both a bagel, paying for them on her card.

Chloe orders herself a vanilla latte once Aubrey is finished. "What do you like?" she asks.

Aubrey orders herself a grande iced chai then looks around for a seat as Chloe pays. There are no window seats available – only a small table in the back corner. She waits for Chloe to collect her change then leads her that way and places her purse down on the table as she sits. "You're going to work after this, too?" she asks, remembering Chloe saying she almost showed up in scrubs.

Chloe nods and puts her bag down beside her chair. "I have a few patients to check up on," she says, "And then a handful of rabies shots to give. How is your dog doing?"

 _Her_ dog? Oh. Right. Conrad has one of those. It's the thing that digs through the trash. Aubrey shrugs. She glances at the counter when she hears her and Chloe's names.

"I got it." Chloe stands up and walks over to retrieve their bagels and drinks.

"He's fine," Aubrey says when she comes back. "He and Charlotte are always in some sort of trouble." She pauses. "Charlotte is my daughter."

Chloe smiles and places their things on the table. "How old is she?" she asks before sipping on her drink. She leans back against her chair, focusing all of her attention on Aubrey.

"Five," Aubrey answers, "She just started Kindergarten this year."

"Aw. Does she like it?" Chloe doesn't take her eyes off Aubrey as she grabs her bagel.

"I don't know." Aubrey swirls her drink around in her cup and shrugs, "She doesn't really tell me about it. I mean, she gets good grades… Her teacher never responds to emails." She takes a swallow of her drink to hide her frown.

"That must be really frustrating." Chloe's smile turns sympathetic. "Do you have a picture of her?"

Aubrey nods. She puts her cup down and digs her phone out of her purse. She unlocks it and quickly flips through her images until she finds one of Charlotte hugging Twix. She guesses Chloe will like that one. "This is her." She turns her phone so Chloe can see the screen.

"Awwww." Chloe leans forward. "She looks just like you."

Aubrey doesn't really think so. She guesses she can see it in the shape of Charlotte's features and blonde hair – but Charlotte has brown eyes and freckles. She puts her phone back in her bag. "She's a handful," she says, not having any other way to describe her.

"Aren't all kids?" Chloe asks and leans back again.

Aubrey looks at her. "Then she's two handfuls." She picks up her bagel and shakes her head. Eight handfuls might be more honest. She wouldn't describe Charlotte as a _bad_ kid. But her behavior since moving to Queens has been…questionable.

Aubrey's phone rings. She pulls it out of her bag again, and recognizes the number as Charlotte's school. Right on cue. "Sorry," she apologizes to Chloe, then answers the phone. "Aubrey Posen speaking."

"Hello, Mrs. Posen," the lady on the other end of the phone says, "This is Principal Briar from Charlotte's school. Do you have a moment?"

Aubrey has a feeling that she wouldn't be allowed to answer no, regardless of if she had a moment or not. But it doesn't matter, because at least someone is finally fucking talking to her. "I do," she says.

"Good, good," Principal Briar says, "There was an incident after Charlotte was dropped off. We're going to need you to come in to the school to discuss it."

Aubrey's brows furrow. "What kind of incident?" she asks, "Is she okay?"

"Charlotte is fine," Principal Briar says calmly, "But she is in detention."

So it's _that_ kind of incident.

"Is everything okay?" Chloe asks.

Aubrey nods. "I'll be right there," she mutters into the phone and glances at her watch. She's going to be late for work.

"Thanks you," Principal Briar says, "We'll see you soon."

Aubrey hangs up the phone, then shoots a quick text to Brian so he can let their job know that she's going to be late. She places her phone down on the table and frowns at her drink. "I have to go," she says not bothering to hide her disappointment. She finally has someone to talk to outside of work – and she continues to have to leave.

"That's okay," Chloe says, "I'll walk with you."

Aubrey is about to tell her it's fine and that she doesn't need to do that, but she stops herself. She doesn't want Chloe to assume that she just doesn't want to hang out with her. She nods. "Alright." She wraps up her bagel and places it in her purse then grabs her drink and stands up.

Chloe gathers her things and stands as well. "What happened?" she asks and looks at Aubrey.

Aubrey shrugs and leads the way to the door, holding it open for Chloe. "Detention happened." She keeps telling herself it's fine, because at least now someone will talk to her – and she'll know how Charlotte is doing. Although detention gives her some clues about that answer.

"It's barely even 8:00," Chloe says.

"Three handfuls," Aubrey corrects her earlier statement.

Chloe offers her a sympathetic smile.

"But she's a good kid," Aubrey says quickly. She walks down the street, toward Charlotte's school – smiling as the cars go by. She likes Queens most at this time of the morning. Right when it's starting to wake up. The streets aren't crowded, but it's lively. It'd almost like Winter turning into Spring. She realizes Chloe is looking at her, and her face turns red. "Sorry, I'm talking too much."

Chloe shakes her head. "No," she says, "Not at all."

"You have a dog, too?" Aubrey asks her, unsure what to ask, remembering she mentioned something about a dog last week.

Chloe nods. "Sir Licks-A-Lot," she reminds Aubrey of its name. "We should take our dogs to the dog park sometime."

Aubrey has never walked Conrad's dog. She has never _wanted_ to walk Conrad's dog. Now, she might be reconsidering. She tries to remember if Conrad or Brian told her of any plans over the next few days, because she is running out of sitters for Charlotte. They're going to the beach on Sunday. And Monday is a long day for Brian at work. "What about tomorrow?" she asks, wondering if that's too soon.

"Tomorrow sounds great," Chloe answers, "But maybe not this early in the morning."

Aubrey nods in agreement – not that it matters much to her. She wakes up at 6:30 on Saturday mornings to go jogging anyway. "You'll have to text me the address for the dog park."

"Do you want to just meet at Starbucks again, and we can grab coffee and go from there?" Chloe asks. "I can still text you the address. How do you have a dog, and you've never gone to the dog park?"

Because every time Conrad wants to go to the dog park, Aubrey gets unexplainable headaches that prevent her from leaving the house until right after he's gone. But the thought of going with Chloe doesn't seem that bad. Maybe _Conrad_ is the headache. She shrugs, and is saved from answering as they walk up to Charlotte's school. "Tomorrow?" she confirms, "What time?"

"Tomorrow aaaaaaaaat -" Chloe draws out the word as the thinks. "Noon. Is that a good time?"

Both guys should be awake at that point to do something with Charlotte. Aubrey nods. "That sounds pitch perfect," she answers.

"Great." Chloe looks at the school then at Aubrey again. "Good luck in there."

Aubrey looks at the large brick building that she hasn't been inside since touring it before enrolling Charlotte. She feels a little bit like _she_ is being called to the office – which is ridiculous, because Aubrey Posen never got into trouble in school. "I'll see you tomorrow." She doesn't care _what_ happens tomorrow; she is not going to show up only to tell Chloe she has to leave again. The boys and Charlotte will just have to fend for themselves.

"Bye." Chloe gives her a quick, one-armed side hug. "See you tomorrow. You can text me before then – if you want to, of course."

Aubrey watches her go – wondering if she should have made an effort to try to hug her back. She isn't quite sure how that works with people she just met. But she does that have time to dwell on it. She takes another swallow of her drink, then turns and walks into Charlotte's school.


	5. Chapter 5

**elocin1977** : Aw, thank you.  
 **bechloe-bible-49:** I'm sure her and Chloe will be a riot together, and give Aubrey a run for her money.  
 **Pixie1913** : Chloe is always what Aubrey needs - in my mind, anyway.  
 **Oranagewifi** : Thank you!  
 **LaraAelric** : Detention in Kinder happens more often than you'd think these days.  
 **Selene** **Elven** : What? You mean I shouldn't add any serial killers? If I play Happy, would it be acceptable?  
 **Eva** : Thank you!

 **A/N** : It's my birthday today! And I told myself this story wasn't going to get angsty, but would it really be my writing without a little bit of angst?

* * *

 **Something Just Like This**

* * *

 _She said, where'd you wanna go?_  
 _How much you wanna risk?_  
 _I'm not looking for somebody with some superhuman gifts,_  
 _Some superhero,_  
 _Some fairytale bliss._  
 _Just something I can turn to,_  
 _Somebody I can kiss._  
 _\- Coldplay, The Chainsmokers_

* * *

 _You can text me before then – if you want to, of course._

Aubrey taps her fingers on the desk in the office, trying to block Chloe's words out of her head. She should be thinking of Charlotte, and adequate punishment for causing Aubrey to be late to work. Charlotte will be miserable enough when Aubrey tells her she's going to the dog park tomorrow without her. "Excuse me," she tries addressing the receptionist again, "How long is this going to take? I have a job that I need to be at."

The receptionist sighs and presses a button on her desk then leans forward to speak into a microphone. "Principal Briar, Mrs. Posen would _really_ like to speak with you now."

A door along the back wall behind the desk opens and an old, greying woman looks at Aubrey in distain. "Right this way," she says tersely. Aubrey recognizes the woman's voice from the earlier phone call and vaguely remembers meeting her during her tour of the school. "We have a lot to discuss."

Aubrey steps around the desk, fighting the urge to inform the woman that she had seemed a lot more pleasant on the phone.

Briar leads Aubrey into her office – a small room with a desk and three chairs. Charlotte is slouching in one chair, kicking her feet back and forth. "Have a seat, Mrs. Posen," she says and walks around the desk to her own chair.

"Have a seat, Mrs. Posen," Charlotte mumbles under her breath.

Aubrey shoots Charlotte a look and takes a seat beside her. "What seems to be the problem?" she asks.

"What seems to be the problem?" Charlotte mimics her.

Aubrey bites her tongue. Physically bites it with her front teeth, trying remind herself to keep her temper in check. She focuses her gaze on the principal, plastering on the best phlegmatic expression she can muster.

"After Charlotte was dropped off this morning, as she was walking to her class, she threatened to _nuke_ another student," Briar explains, "And when the other student said that he was going to tell on her, she proceeded to spit on him."

The corners of Aubrey's lips twitch and she takes a slow deep breath through her nose before she turns to face Charlotte. "Charlotte, why would you do that?" she asks, trying to keep her cool, "Where did you hear that word?"

Charlotte shrugs, staring at the front of Briar's desk. "Grandpa said that's what people do to people they don't like." She kicks the desk with the tips of her toes.

 _Of course_. "Well, Grandpa is wrong," Aubrey states, and Charlotte's eyes grow wide at the statement. She's surprised her phone doesn't start immediately ringing from her father calling her to tell her he simply sensed she had disgraced him yet again.

"The incident brought up a few concerns she from her teacher," Briar says and places a folder on the desk.

"Why haven't previous concerns been addressed with me before now?" Aubrey asks.

"Well, you know, children will be children," Briar says. She opens the folder and spreads out a selection of drawings across the desk. "I'm sensing an ongoing theme with Charlotte."

Aubrey scans the drawings – some of them on blank paper, others attached to various projects. She has to look away. "So?" she asks, "She wants to be in the army. These drawings can't be all that different from that of the little _boys_ in the class. Are you meeting with their mothers too?" She knows she should be asking questions – inquiring about how Charlotte is doing socially, what prompted the earlier hallway incident, does she eat all her lunch? She crosses her legs and tries to convince her foot to stop tapping.

Principal Briar sighs. "We're just concerned that someone appears to be _on fire_ in all of her photos," she says. The words cause Aubrey's stomach to turn. "We see this often in children who don't have a lot of limits on what television they watch or the video games they play. It also strikes me that Charlotte has never outwardly shown any violent tendencies until this morning. She's a very quiet, introverted student. Is there something going on at home? I know the two of you live in a very _interesting_ situation."

Aubrey tilts her head. "I'm sorry?" She knows exactly what the woman means, but she's dying to know what she has to say.

"Well, you know, you live with two men…" Principal Briar suddenly looks very uncomfortable in her seat.

"Mhm?" Aubrey raises her brows, feigning ignorant. Next, the principal will be asking if they have any nuclear weapons in their home, and she'll be responding that she'll have to go home and check.

"Who have chosen a very divergent life style." Briar pauses. "Is Charlotte's father in the picture?"

Charlotte sits up in her seat. "She means they're gay, Mommy," she says, looking at Aubrey like she's stupid for not understanding. She turns to Briar. "Being gay means you like people who are the same gender as you," she tells her matter-of-factly, "And you get to wear a lot of glitter if you _want_ to, but you don't have to. Brian never wears any glitter, but Conrad…" She snaps her fingers and seems to do an impression, but of who is questionable. "That bitch sparkles more than a drag club during a Rupaul Season Premiere."

Aubrey claps her hand over Charlotte's mouth, turning whatever else she's saying into mere mumbles. Her cheeks flush a deep shade of red – a sure sign that her entire body is suddenly burning from the inside out. It would be perfectly fine with her if she just burst into flames and died right there on the spot. Maybe Charlotte could draw a picture of _that_ for her teacher. "What are you insinuating?" She cringes as Charlotte licks the palm of her hand and squeezes her cheeks as a warning before letting go of her mouth.

"No _insinuation_ ," Principal Briar says, taking a sudden interest in the things on her desk, "I'm just saying, it must be difficult to be different in a new place. Maybe Charlotte feels she's having a hard time fitting in."

"Or maybe we just accidentally chose a school that labels their _kindergarteners_ as 'different'." Aubrey gets to her feet. She isn't sure if she's overreacting when she says, "Charlotte, we're leaving," but she is sure that the past few minutes spent in this building have been more than enough for her. "Let's go."

"Ms. Posen," Principal Briar says, and Aubrey notes the change in title, "This Academy is one of the top in Queens. Leaving would be a mistake."

"Then we'll just have to find the schools that prevent it from being number one." Aubrey grabs Charlotte by the hand. "Thank you for your time." She leads Charlotte from the office straight to the front door, accepting that she will have to go out shopping for a new backpack and lunchbox for her later.

xxxxx

"So, I'm not in trouble?" Charlotte asks after a few moments of walking in silence.

"You are in _so_ much trouble," Aubrey growls through her teeth. "Why would you spit on somebody?"

"I didn't mean to," Charlotte mutters.

"Oh, so the spit just flew out of your mouth while you were threatening to blow the kid up?" Aubrey stops herself. Takes a deep breath. Starts counting backward from ten. _10\. 9. 8..._

"No!" Charlotte comes to a dramatic stop and pulls her hand away from Aubrey's. She kicks a rock, sending it ricocheting off a nearby metal gutter without a loud clank.

Aubrey halts and folds her arms. Her eyebrows arch high on her forehead, an explicit demand for an explanation.

Charlotte mirrors her – posture rigid, lips drawn taut.

 _7\. 6. 5…_

"Did his actions at least warrant being spit on?" Aubrey asks.

"What?" Charlotte asks, and Aubrey has to remind herself that she's speaking to a five year old.

 _3._

"Was he mean to you first?" Aubrey rephrases the question. Charlotte had better say yes, because if the answer is no, Aubrey has plans to ground her for the rest of Kindergarten. No more pizza. No more Saturday morning cartoons. For a year. Maybe forever.

Charlotte draws in an exaggerates breath, puffing out her chest as she tries to stare Aubrey down.

"Was the other kid _mean_ to you?" Aubrey asks again.

Charlotte swallows thickly, her resolve to win in a battle of wills against Aubrey faltering. "He was kind of mean…"

Aubrey tilts her head.

 _2._

"He was a big kid, and he was in the way!" Charlotte exclaims, "I asked him to move, and he said, 'Wait a minute, Shorty.' I, I told him, 'Don't call me that or I will nuke you'. And, and he _still_ didn't move, and he said he was gonna tell on me."

 _1._

"And so you thought that spitting on him would change his mind?" Aubrey feels like crying in sheer exasperation.

"No!" Charlotte shakes her head. "I just spitted on accident!" She stamps her foot. "Not on purpose!"

"You know, Daddy talked to you about the difference between standing up for yourself and being mean to other people, Charlotte Posen-Braam," Aubrey reminds her, her airways clenching as she speaks. "He told you that not everyone is always going to make the choices that _you_ want them to make, and you can't pick a fight every time you don't like something. You fight when someone is _actually_ hurting you or hurting someone else; that's _it._ "

Charlotte growls at her. Actually growls at her. Like a dog.

People are starting to look at them as they pass by, and this isn't the place she wants to have this conversation. She gently grabs Charlotte by the arm, and finds that she has to half drag her toward the apartment building – earning them a few more stares from strangers who are no doubt judging her parenting skills almost as hard as she is.

"Grandpa said that you just never hit first," Charlotte said, "He said you wait for the other person to swing, and then you hit back twice as hard! He calleded me a shorty, so I said I will nuke him!"

"Well, Grandpa isn't here." Aubrey pulls her along, setting her focus on their destination. The moment they get inside, she can look for a better school. Maybe she'll even find one that can enroll Charlotte on Monday so her education doesn't suffer.

"Neither is Daddy!" Charlotte hits back. And it's twice as hard. She turns herself around, trying to twist out of Aubrey's grip. "It's just _you_!"

Aubrey drops her arm and stops again, just staring at her, feeling like she's been punched in the stomach. Because it's true; he's not here, and it's just her doing a terrible job at navigating on her own. She draws in a breath and refolds her arms, hugging her midsection as a wave of nausea rushes through her. She had asked Charlotte if she had wanted to stay behind. Her parents had asked (re: threatened) to take her while Aubrey was out 'wallowing in self-pity and throwing her entire life away'. In the end, Charlotte had insisted on moving to New York City – especially after she saw the skyscrapers and the Central Park Zoo on Google. It would be too late to take them both back now – her pride couldn't handle how crushed she would be under the 'I told you it wouldn't work out' of her mother and father. They would probably take Charlotte away from her and kick her out on the streets.

Charlotte growls again and kicks at the pebbles on the sidewalk then looks up at Aubrey, her features fading from the rough edginess of anger into the stiff frozenness of fear. She clamps her hand over her mouth, and for a moment, Aubrey panics that all of her nervous habits have been passed down through the evils of genetics. But Charlotte doesn't gag. She just starts vigorously shaking her head. "That was a accident too," she mumbles into her palm and takes baby steps toward Aubrey until she's pressed up against her leg. She throws her arms around Aubrey's thigh, tucking her face into the fabric of her pants, and lets out a drawn out whine as she jams her thumb between her lips.

It takes a moment of controlled breathing, but Aubrey composes herself for the most part. She ropes her anger in under control, but no amount of breaths can take away the feeling of being hit in the gut. Even though Charlotte's grip is tight, she manages to pry her from her leg and kneels down in front of her. "I'm sorry that he called you a shorty," she says, pulling Charlotte's thumb from her mouth so she can hold both of her hands, "I know you don't like when other kids call you names."

"And he wouldn't move," Charlotte adds.

Aubrey nods. "But it's still inappropriate to spit on people," she says, "You tell them to stop. If they don't stop, you either tell a teacher or you come home and you tell me, do you understand?"

"I told you I spitted on a accident!" Charlotte shouts, tears welling up in her eyes.

"Spitting is not appropriate," Aubrey enforces, refusing to back down from this matter, even if tears are involved. "Do you _understand_?"

Charlotte draws in a deep breath through her nose and steels herself, responding with a stoic nod.

Aubrey waits.

"I understand, Mommy." Charlotte sniffles and nods again.

"Good." Aubrey releases one of her hands and stands up, "If you threaten somebody or spit again, there will be serious consequences. Right now, you're only grounded from pizza and cartoons tomorrow morning."

Charlotte slides her thumb back between her lips and pulls away from Aubrey's hand to grab her shirt sleeve, rubbing the fabric between her fingers. She pulls Aubrey's arm closer, using her sleeve to wipe her eyes.

There is a certain exhaustion that rushes over Aubrey the moment she no longer has to continue with her lecture. She pulls out her phone with her free hand, texts her boss that she won't be at work, because she had to pick up Charlotte, and starts trudging them the rest of the way home, thoughts of her morning with Chloe long forgotten.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** Sorry it took so long.

* * *

 **Something Just Like This**

* * *

 _She said, where'd you wanna go?_  
 _How much you wanna risk?_  
 _I'm not looking for somebody,_  
 _With some superhuman gifts,_  
 _Some superhero,_  
 _Some fairytale bliss._  
 _Just something I can turn to,_  
 _Somebody I can kiss._

 _\- Coldplay, The Chainsmokers_

* * *

"Change your clothes," Aubrey demands when they get inside. She shuts the door behind them and looks at Twix as he strolls lazily into the room. It isn't until he recognizes them that his entire pudgy body started to jiggle with excitement and his rear end shakes back and forth. Worthless excuse for a guard dog. "Now."

"Why?" Charlotte whines, clinging to Aubrey's arm.

"Because I gave you instructions," Aubrey answers, "And the instructions were to change your clothes."

"But why?" Charlotte asks again.

Aubrey swallows thickly, her stomach starting to feel queasy under the stress. "Because," she answers slowly, carefully choosing her words, "You're in your school clothes, and you're not at school anymore."

"You're in your work clothes, and you're not at work," Charlotte points out.

The corners of Aubrey's lips twitch. "Go change your clothes," she whispers in a tone so threatening that she actually concerns herself, " _Now._ "

Charlotte releases her arm and takes a few steps back then stops and just stares at her from a safe distance away.

"I said _right now_." There are times when Aubrey wonders if her 'no spanking' policy is actually the best way to go in terms of discipline, and right now becomes one of those times. Not because she's angry, but because it feels like it might be the only way to convince Charlotte to stop being so bull-headed and actually listen to her. "Go, or you're going to bed."

Charlotte turns on her heels and stomps away, growling at Twix as he tries to follow her. She slams her bedroom door shut.

Aubrey presses the heels of her hands against her eyes and resists the urge to scream. She takes a deep breath and counts backwards from ten as she slowly exhales. Everything is fine. She pulls out her phone and texts Conrad to ask when he's coming home, even though she knows the answer is 3, then walks to her room. To change. Because she's in her work clothes, and she isn't at work. She doesn't mean to slam the door, but in her rush to be inside her room, she closes it too quickly and it rattles the entire apartment. This resets off Charlotte, who reopens her door and closes it even louder.

"Do not slam your door!" Aubrey yells.

"You did!" Charlotte yells back through the closed the doors.

"Stop yelling!" Aubrey lets the words slip, knowing full well they're pointless when she's also yelling.

Charlotte is silent for a moment then releases a blood-curling shriek.

Aubrey covers her face with her hands and says a prayer that none of their neighbors call CPS. That's the last thing that she needs right now. She tears off her jacket and shirt and throws them in her hamper then flings open her closet door. It's tempting to just put her pajamas back on, but she can't spend an entire day in pajamas. She grabs a long t-shirt and leggings and throws them at the bottom of her bed, then strips off her pants. It's pointless to wear a bra if she isn't going out, so that goes in the hamper too, and it's momentarily easier to breathe. Only momentarily. She has to put all of her focus into just taking one breath after another as she gets redressed.

She would rather be at work than here all day.

There is a small knock on her bedroom door.

"Come in _if you're dressed_ ," Aubrey tells her.

Charlotte pushes open the door and walks inside, wearing a shirt with Elsa on it and blue leggings. She doesn't say anything as she just climbs up onto the bed then pulls the blankets around herself.

A nap doesn't sound like such a terrible idea. Aubrey walks around the side of the bed, subtly wiping underneath her eyes once her back is to Charlotte. She pulls down the blankets then lies down on her side, staring at the wall.

"Mommy?" Charlotte asks.

"Mhm?" It's little more than a hum.

"Are you mad at me?" Charlotte sits up and leans over Aubrey.

Aubrey presses her lips together and pauses for a moment to try to choose her words. "I'm mad in general, Charlotte," she answers, "Okay?" She rolls over onto her back.

"Wh-"

"Do not say 'why' again," Aubrey warns her.

Charlotte is quiet only for a moment. "How come? Is Daddy mad at me?"

Aubrey would rather answer 'why?' than entertain the second question. She shakes her head.

"Is Daddy mad in general?" Charlotte asks.

"I don't know," Aubrey answers, "Maybe."

Charlotte hums and leans back against a pillow. "Can I go to school at home?" she asks, "Some kids do that."

"Definitely no," Aubrey answers immediately.

Charlotte opens her mouth and moves her lips to form a 'w' sound then stops herself.

Aubrey already knows exactly what she's about to ask. She pulls Charlotte a little closer and closes her eyes, imagining all the things she could be getting done at work right now. "Because I would lose my mind," she answers, "Because I would _lose_ my _mind_."

xxxxx

" _I'm losing my god damned mind here, Aubrey," Sam Posen said as he held up the shoe he was attempting to slide on his granddaughter's foot, "How about buying the kid some shoes that fit?"_

 _Aubrey finished buttoning up her jacket before she looked up. "We're going to the mall tomorrow," she stated calmly, "Shoes are on the top of the list."_

" _Are you going to wait until all of her clothes are too small to buy her new ones?" he asked._

" _Those shoes are new," Aubrey said, "She hit a growth spurt. She's growing too fast to keep up."_

"Too fast to keep up," _Sam muttered under his breath. He looked at the shoe and threw it across the kitchen into the trashcan._

 _Charlotte watched the shoe fly then reached for the other shoe._

" _Give her to me." Aubrey marched over and pulled her two year old from his arms before she could fling the second shoe._

" _You're just going to yank that poor kid right out of her grandpa's arms?" Sam asked._

 _Charlotte didn't fight it. She sleepily wrapped her arms around Aubrey's neck and rested her head on her shoulder._

" _She's tired; we're ready to go home," Aubrey replied, "We'll see you later, Daddy." She looked at Charlotte. "Tell Grandpa goodbye."_

" _Bye, Grampa." Charlotte waved at him._

" _Goodbye, Charlotte." Sam stood up and peppered kisses across the toddler's face, making her giggle. "I'll see you later, my girl."_

 _Aubrey stepped back, satisfied that they had said goodbye._

" _Don't be like your mother," Sam told Charlotte._

" _Okay," Charlotte said innocently and nodded her head._

 _Aubrey tensed. "Are you happy?" she asked her father._

" _Let me tell you one thing, Aubrey," he said._

 _Aubrey tilted her head._

" _Your entire childhood, you had a roof over your head, food on the table, and never once did you have clothes that did not fit," Sam told her, "Do you know why?"_

" _Let me guess, because you married Mom before you knocked her up," Aubrey answer._

" _Your damn right," Sam said, "She's a smart woman. We used protection."_

 _Aubrey wasn't going to argue this again, wasn't going to try to explain for the millionth time that she_ had _been on birth control at the time_ and _it had been the_ only _time they didn't use a condom. It wasn't like she and David hadn't agreed they wanted kids; it just happened a little sooner than they expected. "Goodbye, Daddy." She gave him a terse nod then carried Charlotte toward the door._

" _She's going to get sick with you taking her out there without shoes!" Sam called after her, "The_ smart _thing to do would be to just leave her here and let your mother go out to buy her some in the morning."_

 _Aubrey made sure the door shut tight behind her._

" _Hey." David walked away from the open car door and met her halfway. "Don't listen to him."_

" _He didn't say anything," Aubrey said and offered him their daughter, "Charlotte was just saying goodbye."_

" _Where's her shoes?" David asked._

 _Aubrey heaved a sigh._

" _You know what, that's okay, we're getting her new ones anyway." David pecked her lips and took Charlotte from her arms to carry her to the car. "Because she's getting so big," he said in the baby voice that Aubrey's father hated, bouncing their daughter on his hip as he walked._

 _She took one last look at the house before following him to the car – finally able to relax again when she got in, settling back into the space with her little family._

xxxxx

Charlotte isn't actually that tired. But Mommy must have been. Because, soon, she is sleeping, and Charlotte is wiggling out of her arms, feeling stuck. She breaks free as carefully as possible and leans over to reach for the phone on the nightstand. It won't be a big deal if she plays Angry Birds for awhile. Technically, she doesn't have anymore homework she has to do first.

Angry Birds is fun sometimes, but not all the time. It's the only game she's allowed to keep on Mommy's phone though, because games take up a lot of _space_. So she can only have one. She situates herself with her back against Mommy, and unlocks the phone. The Angry Birds icon is right on the home page. She doesn't even have to swipe or anything. Some kids would say 'swipe or _nothing_ ', but that would be incorrect to say she doesn't have to do nothing. Nothing is exactly what she has to do. She's about to hit the icon when ' **one new text** ' pops up on the screen and her thumb accidentally opens that instead.

Charlotte gasps and glances at Mommy to make sure she isn't awake to see. There are certain rules for what she is allowed to use the phone for. Angry Birds? Yes. Calling people? Sometimes, if she asks. Texting Mommy's friends? No, no, no. She turns the phone over so she can't see the screen and quickly places it on the bed.

But what if it's Conrad? What if it's important?

There is no reason she wouldn't be allowed to talk to Conrad. _Especially_ if it's important!

She turns the phone just enough that she can peak at it. She can see the text came from someone whose name starts with 'C'. _Conrad_ starts with 'C'. After one last glance at Mommy, she flips the phone over and lifts it closer to her face. Conrad is not the only name that starts with 'C'. So does – she tries to sound it out – _Ch l o eh._ She whispers it under her breath. It sounds weird. And then, she has to _know_ …

Charlotte skims over the text from Chloe that asks ' _Everything good?_ ', and starts typing her own message.

 **Charlotte** : _Hi. I am Charlotte. How do you say your name?_


End file.
